Uchiha Madara entered the genjutsu game with a mindset that blended both skepticism and curiosity.
As the strongest member of the Uchiha Clan, someone who had hidden in the shadows of the ninja world for decades, Madara had spent much of his time researching various secret arts—especially those originating from the Hidden Leaf and the Uchiha themselves.
Whenever something new emerged, Madara would go to great lengths to acquire and study it, often dismissing it with disdainful comments like "nothing special," "somewhat interesting," or "trash."
So when he learned that this genjutsu game had been developed by younger Uchiha and was even being promoted externally, it was only natural that the self-proclaimed connoisseur of Uchiha techniques would try it himself.
As soon as he entered the game, Madara experienced a dizzying whirl—this wasn't just any illusion. This was a high-level genjutsu, on par with those only accessible through the Mangekyō Sharingan.
"Interesting… mimicking Mangekyō-level genjutsu with secret techniques? Quite the concept."
The cold, dismissive tone betrayed the fact that, by Madara's standards, this was high praise.
Then he fully entered the game world—only to be greeted by a digital voice:
\\[Player's physical condition is extremely aged, which may affect gameplay. Would you like to enable the Elderly/Disabled/Ill Player Protocol and restore your body to its prime for a better experience?]
This was a safety feature Kei had implemented, allowing even those on their deathbeds to become players and generate emotional value.
Madara squinted. "Restoring me to my prime? Hmph, a pointless gimmick."
Still, he didn't reject it. Nor was he surprised that such a feature existed—after all, for the Uchiha, forging false realities was child's play.
The protocol activated, and Madara's in-game avatar transformed.
The moment the former battlefield rose, the Shura of the Ninja World, came to his senses again, he found himself standing outside a vast farm. All signs of aging and sickness were gone. He was back in his prime.
Healthy. Powerful. Every sense sharp. His body surged with boundless *powa*.
Dominant! Mighty! Fierce!
His three-tomoe Sharingan activated almost instantly. Clenching his fists, Madara felt the overwhelming strength ripple through him. He hadn't felt this sense of invincibility in so long that he had nearly forgotten it.
Though his Sharingan weren't original, and he hadn't recovered his true peak strength, the thrill of youth and vitality was still intoxicating.
Breathing deeply, Madara examined his hands, clenched his fists again, and shut his eyes, savoring the sensation.
When he opened them, a surging aura burst from him, as if the Warring States Era had returned and only Hashirama Senju remained worthy of his gaze.
Crossing his arms before his chest, his Sharingan scanning the empty space ahead, Madara sneered proudly, "For a toy meant to stir nostalgia… not bad."
"And this level of realism—there's no doubt it rivals Mangekyō Sharingan-level illusions. Only someone with a natural affinity for powerful genjutsu could develop this." ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲·𝗻𝗲𝘁
"The Uchiha who created this… is a prodigy of technique on par with that bastard Tobirama Senju."
For Madara, this was high praise.
To him, the pinnacle of genius was Hashirama Senju, a one-of-a-kind existence.
Right beneath him? Tobirama Senju.
Though he despised Tobirama, Madara couldn't deny his brilliance—especially in the realm of secret technique development. In some ways, even Hashirama fell short.
So this level of praise from Madara was truly exceptional.
Then, he advanced—and triggered the system of the game "Fruit Ninja."
The voice of the obnoxious bratty NPC echoed mockingly. Madara narrowed his cold eyes.
When the cherry tree for difficulty selection appeared and began firing cherry bullets, Madara didn't dodge. Blue chakra burst from his body.
The next moment, a five- to six-meter-tall blue skeletal torso materialized.
This was the Uchiha Clan's ultimate power—**Susanoo**!
Ordinarily, only those with the Mangekyō Sharingan could activate it.
But Madara had long surpassed such limitations. He could summon Susanoo even with the three-tomoe Sharingan.
The only difference: the three-tomoe version couldn't reach the full-body form.
Not that it mattered. A mere cherry tree? First form Susanoo was more than enough.
Without dodging a single bullet, the skeletal hand swiped—and shattered the tree.
The system instantly registered that Madara had chosen the highest difficulty. A flood of fruit-themed enemies emerged. The farm expanded. He now faced the same trial Minato Namikaze once did.
Faced with this shift, Madara didn't flinch. With a disdainful snort and a sneer of "pointless gimmick," he upgraded his Susanoo.
With its invincible defense, he pushed forward, clearing fruit enemies as he went.
What was a hell-difficulty mode for the Five Kage was barely a walk in the park for Madara.
His Susanoo didn't even need full armor. In third form—skeletal frame with partial armor—it bulldozed through everything.
No attack could pierce its defenses. Madara simply advanced arrogantly until he reached the goal.
At the end, he gave a disdainful review:
Arrogant, yes—but he had earned the right.
This difficulty level, which overwhelmed most Kage, felt no different from a stroll through the Uchiha Clan garden.
But was that the end? Would "Fruit Ninja" react to such dominance?
As every gamer knew, many games—especially older ones—hid special difficulty tiers beneath their hardest modes.
"Fruit Ninja" was designed for challenge. Of course it had secrets.
Kei had hidden an extra mode, only triggered when someone beat Hell Mode within a minute.
It was meant for those absurd monsters who would appear later in the Naruto timeline—Kei never expected it to be triggered.
But then came Madara, this ancient beta tester, who decided to play.
And so, the impossible happened.
As Madara prepared to log out, the sky suddenly darkened. A crimson hue swept over the landscape, as if the heavens bled.
He froze, narrowing his eyes.
The bratty NPC's voice rang out again—this time, shrill and sharp.
"Damn you damn you damn you! Bastard bastard bastard!"
"You disgusting worm! How dare you look down on me?!"
"Disrespectful scum! You think you've won? You haven't even seen real hell yet!"
"Now, I'll show you what a true 'fruit' is!"
Suddenly, the cutesy art style turned grotesque. The music warped into something grand and twisted.
If a time-traveling gamer from Earth had been there, they'd have screamed:
"Did you seriously stitch in *that* again?! Isn't this the BGM from *A Chinese Ghost Story*'s 'Universal Mercy' scene?!"